Of Devotion and Silence
by bronc
Summary: Seven stories of love, of forgiveness, of happiness. For Caesar's Palace.
1. Chapter 1

She's on the bed, eyes squeezed shut, facing the wall. She feels a presence in the room but doesn't look up, it's only her mother trying to console her. The figure gulps, and she shifts in bed a little. The mattress dips beside her, and there is a warmth on her back, a hand. A tear drops from her eye and she opens them, wiping the salty trophy of shame away with the edge of her sheet.

"Are you okay?" a voice comes from beside her. It's him, with his tufts of blonde hair and his strong, warm hands and his soft voice that makes her want to stay with him forever.

He crawls under the sheets with her, a hand on her shoulder. He brushes her dark hair to the side, taking in all the smells - the fresh linen on the pillowcase, the warm forest smell of his fiance, and the dark, damp smell of Thirteen's underground bunkers.

"I love you," she says, barely a whisper.

He nods even though he knows she won't see, and says he loves her too. He squeezes her hand. More tears flow down her cheeks as the grief of the loss of her sister, of Prim, hits her like a fist raging through her heart, and maybe she's happy a little bit because of the boy telling her it'll be okay, but she doesn't feel safe, not at all, not in a million years.

She finds the strength to squeeze his hand back, and a tingle of happiness echoes through his veins. _She's okay, she doesn't hate me, she's still here with me_.

For the second time tonight, she wipes her tears on her plain blue sheets, and she almost feels okay.

 _For Caesar's Palace's Shipping Week, day one. Prompt: Whisper._


	2. Chapter 2

He draws his knife on her, thrusting it just inches away from her shoulder. She remains calm on the outside, but he notices her hand is shaking as she uses it to gently push the dagger away from her. He feels completely powerless standing in front of her with a weapon when she has none. She's looking into her eyes, admiring the alluring shade of blue.

"Haymitch, please, you've gone completely insane, just calm down. Put the knife away," she says quietly, brushing her blonde hair behind her shoulders. "We can talk this through, and I'm very sorry I left you, but it was only a few minutes."

He's staring at her, desperately trying to appear menacing. He shouts, "Don't tell me what to do, Maysilee, not if you aren't going to communicate with me. We're in the Games and you need to keep it together or you'll get us b-both killed!" He starts to stutter, and Maysilee takes one look at him and knows he's completely helpless.

"Well, no one's hurt, are they?" she continues in her calm voice, taking the knife slowly from him. "But I see your point. I'll tell you before I go somewhere next time."

She leaves a small kiss on his cheek and returns the knife to him. "That's no-not the point-" he starts to say, but never finishes his sentence. "I'm sorry," he says instead.


	3. Chapter 3

She sits on a rocking chair, messing with her dark hair, waiting for her husband to come home. In her shaking hands she holds the test, a little piece of plastic that managed to change her life.

The door opens, and it's him, his smiling face looking down at her, joy in his eyes. "Welcome home!" she says grandly, standing up and giving him a warm hug. Gently, she lays a kiss on his lips. "I love you so much."

He looks at her, his face bright. "I love you too, Annie. I'm going to put my work stuff upstairs and then we can start dinner together." He disappears into the second floor of the house, and she stares back at the test. After a moment, she forces herself to tuck it away in her sweatshirt pocket and put the chicken in warm water to thaw.

When he comes back down the stairs, wearing his pajama pants and an old t-shirt, she can't help but cry when she looks at him. He opens the fridge and takes out a jug of milk.

"I'm pregnant," she announces, leaning against the sink. Her heart races, her palms are sweaty.

He looks completely baffled, his eyes full of wonder. "What?" he whispers.

"I'm pregnant," she says, a little louder. she gulps. "Three or four weeks now."

When she turns around, there's a huge smile on his face. "That's the best news I've heard all year," he says as he scoops her up and kisses her in the fluorescent light of the kitchen at dusk.

A tear falls onto her cheek and she can't help but think, _Really? How can you be happy when this is so scary?_ but she kisses him back, his tender lips against hers. She's still shaking, a little, but she's happy, and he's here for her.


	4. Chapter 4

She's pacing the stage, just hours before her first reaping as an official Capitol escort, wearing 6-inch pink pumps and a matching balloony dress. _This is your job,_ she tells herself, _just your profession. You're not the one who chose them to die_.

He stumbles through the Justice Building lobby, drunk, his hair and short beard scruffy and unkempt. His hand grasps her forearm and she gasps a little bit, gazing into his eyes. They are a Seam grey, little flecks of green-yellow around his pupils. He stands up straight, composing himself. "Miss Effie," he says, his words slurred together into a vague pair of syllables.

He leaves a little peck on her lips, smearing her lipstick. "That's disgusting," she whispers to herself in her little Capitol accent. She calls on her assistant to reapply but she can't help thinking how beautiful those eyes were. "No, no," she tells herself. He's a man from the Seam, a victor, older than her, and a drunkard.

She steps out onto the stage, confident, gazing down into a crowd of thousands of District Twelve citizens.

He hand plunges into the girls' glass bowl, and she reads the name. She barely sees the momentous event occur, but she reacts quickly. The crowd stirs a little bit, excited about this volunteer. A twelve-year-old girl with braids and a nice dress cries in the front, gazing up at her brave older sister.

When her hand reaches into the boys' bowl, she swears she sees the name Haymitch flash across that paper. But, coming to her senses, she announces "Peeta Mellark!" into the microphone, and when the tall, well-built boy walks slowly up to the stage, she sees Abernathy all over his face.

When the teenagers are crying with their families in the Justice Building, she's sitting in the fancy Capitol car telling Haymitch that she can't stop thinking about him.


End file.
